


A Bet Gone Awry

by Imtrouble



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imtrouble/pseuds/Imtrouble
Summary: When a bet goes badly, a student is victim to the Draught of Living Death and someone needs to sort out a antidote.... cue the worst potion maker in the world!





	A Bet Gone Awry

"Of all the stupid things, students never cease to amaze me! You'll be lucky not to be expelled from your course for this, Flint."

"I appreciate that, Professor, but… well… ok, I have no good excuse."

"Why are you even messing around with potions? You're here to work with Madam Hooch!"

"Look I'm sorry, Professor it was a moment of madness! Being back at Hogwarts has that effect."

"I heard you spent plenty of extra years here as it is, Flint?"

The professor's tone had changed now, it wasn't accusatory but questioning. 

"I was never good at academics, Professor. Quidditch was always what I lived for. That and maybe care for magical creatures."

"Call me Horace, you're nearly a teacher now after all. I checked out your potions results, you failed, Marcus. Do you really believe that I'll fall for the story that you brewed a perfect Draught of Living Death and yet can't brew a Wiggenweld potion?"

"I… well I had some help, of course."

"Or… you're covering for a student? I know how close you remain with some of your old housemates, Marcus. The eighth-year cohort really is new territory, but school rules still apply."

"I'm aware, and I didn't condone it sir but as I'm sure you're aware I'm also not a snitch."

"I told you, call me Horace. Very well. Let's see if we can turn you into a potioneer yet!"

Marcus watched the older man dip in and out of the ingredients store cupboard multiple times before he had everything he needed. The potions classrooms remained as dingy as they had been in his youth.

"Now, grab a cauldron, Marcus, and bring it over here."

He did as he was told and conjured a flame before placing the cauldron over it.

They worked together, and Marcus did everything Horace directed him to do up until where it needed to be left alone for thirty minutes. He was amazed the potion appeared the colour it was meant to.

"I used to have one on one lessons with Professor Snape, and I still managed to do something every single time," he admitted to Slughorn when he has asked why he was stunned it had gone right even under direction. 

The next thirty minutes were spent in reminiscing about his Hogwarts days and his time since then, and finally, they ended up discussing the Chudley Canons chance of winning this year's league.

Marcus was pleasantly surprised. He couldn't say that any of the teachers had started treating him any differently than the student he used to be.

As soon as the thirty minutes were up, the potion was ladled into a bottle and corked up. 

"I'll tidy up," Marcus offered in thanks. Slughorn waved him off.

"Get that to your friend, it's better fresh."

"Thank you, Horace."

"You're welcome, Marcus. If you get bored with the children, you know where to find me. I keep a good stash of firewhisky in my private suite. Oh, and if you're set on becoming a teacher, you might have to get over your inability to be a snitch. Kind of comes with the territory I'm afraid!"

"I'll remember that." With a nod, he dashed off to deliver the antidote.

\------

A few moments later, he walked into the room of requirement and was faced with the sleeping form of one Theodore Nott. 

"Do you have it?" Her voice broke through the room, and he turned to watch her float down the stairs.

"Yep, one Wiggenweld Potion to wake up the sleeping idiot over there."

"Tsk…" she motioned at his slight.

"Now, now," she admonished, "he can't help being determined to best me one day. I mean… it's quite charming really."

"Save me the romantic spiel, Granger. I would prefer to be left out of yours and Nott's weird games in the future."

"Did he suspect?" She asked uncorking the potion and walking across to where Nott lay motionless.

"Of course he did. You've met me, right? He knows I'm covering for someone, came right out and asked me even. That and anyone who can brew the Draught of Living Death can make the antidote."

He watched as she opened his former Slytherin housemate's mouth, emptying the bottle. She leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"He didn't suspect us, though?"

"I think you could have gone straight to Slughorn and asked him yourself and he still wouldn't suspect you! But I'm probably on some hit list now."

She laughed. "Well, don't place bets you won't win, Flint." Her attention shifted to Theo who had started to come round. 

He turned to leave but not before calling over his shoulder.

"I'll get my own back, Granger, and you won't like what I have in mind. Also… he's going to kill you for keeping him asleep for a week."

He didn't wait for her reply.

\-----

The following day at breakfast, Slughorn watched as Theodore Nott strolled into the great hall for the first time in a week.

They really did think all teachers were stupid.

He didn't see, however, the smirk that sat across one Hermione Granger's face as Marcus Flint glared at her.


End file.
